Review Time (First Update)

Late at night, London was silent and deserted. Few people passed through this place even during the day, let alone now. Not even gangs wanted to live in such a desolate area. Apart from some strange-looking insects chirping in the moonlight, nothing made a sound. Suddenly, a tremendous cough rang out across the empty ground. An orange-red flash vanished in an instant, followed by a deafening clash of metal and a string of curses.

Golden-red light illuminated the nearby ground. Phoenix stood atop a rusty iron railing, looking down at its master.

Salomon struggled up from the concrete, furiously cursing Mephisto without pause. However, with his head still hidden inside his helmet, no one could make out what he was saying through the muffled sounds. Nick Fury had also fallen out of the portal, but rather than being angry, he seemed quite delighted by Salomon’s misfortune.

"To be honest, I’m a little disappointed." After climbing off the ground, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. pulled out his relentlessly ringing phone and checked the messages he had missed. But before dealing with business, he still wanted to offer his opinion on the trip to Hell. "Seriously, I thought Hell would be utterly awful," he said. "But I didn’t expect the territories of those Hell Lords to be not all that bad."

The Arcanist’s helmet slowly retracted into his breastplate, revealing a head soaked in sweat. He shot Nick Fury a glare, then silently picked up the Sacred Spear that had fallen nearby. Nick Fury wisely shut his mouth, lest Salomon poke him with that lance. When Kamar-Taj’s party finally arrived, Mephisto had already been waiting for Kamar-Taj’s Arcanists in His domain. The moment He saw Salomon holding the Sacred Spear, He immediately expressed His willingness to sign a peace treaty with the Sorcerer Supreme. The old steward promptly produced the magical contract the Sorcerer Supreme had prepared long ago—something Salomon had known nothing about from beginning to end. This journey seemed to have been solely for displaying the Sacred Spear before Mephisto, much like displaying nuclear weapons.

As for why Salomon had been sent to act alone, the old steward’s explanation was this: having Salomon operate independently would not only draw the attention of the other Hell Lords and ensure the party’s safety, but would also serve as a deterrent to them. It was like an aircraft carrier patrol, or a fighter jet carrying Nuclear Warheads. Weapons did not necessarily have to be used; an unfired nuclear weapon was the greatest threat of all. Yet Salomon felt that Mephisto had anticipated this all along. The reason He had not signed the contract beforehand was simply to watch the Arcanists endure countless hardships to reach Hell, only to discover that they had not needed to travel so far after all, and see the frustration on their faces.

However, Salomon was the only one who had been kept in the dark. The other Arcanists had long since been assigned their tasks, so Mephisto had only gotten to appreciate Salomon’s expression—and that alone was enough to keep the old devil happy all day.

Before this, Salomon had been considering what he should do if Mephisto fought to the death. Yet he had not expected Mephisto to sign the contract so happily and without the slightest hesitation, as though Kamar-Taj’s attack had been nothing more than a minor accident. Mephisto was utterly confident in the possibility of signing the contract, because He had traded a piece of information for temporary peace. That information was important, and the stance the Sorcerer Supreme had taken was very likely intended to obtain it.

Damn devil! Damn that twisted sense of humor! Salomon did not blame the Sorcerer Supreme, though. Perhaps The Venerable One had withheld this information because she was playing some unseen game elsewhere, and there was no need for him to interfere. Thus, he accepted the fact instead of showing off the toys in his hands like some immature brat.

He was merely a little unhappy.

The old steward had Salomon take Nick Fury and leave first. Only after Salomon had safely withdrawn would the Arcanists leave Hell. In their eyes, the safety of Salomon, the heir, came first. They had not opened a portal in front of Mephisto, but beyond the borders of His domain, to prevent the devil from interfering with the spell and for the sake of safety.

Perhaps because the Arcanist opening the portal had been eager to send Salomon away, he opened it directly beneath Salomon’s feet. This Arcanist also seemed somewhat poor at casting interdimensional portals, so there was a slight error in their destination. Fortunately, no one was injured, even if Salomon had not been wearing armor.

At most, his nose was bleeding.

"Why are we in London?" Nick Fury glanced at his phone’s location system. "I thought you were going to New York. Otherwise, I never would have left with you."

But Salomon still wore that sullen expression, as though he had a serious grievance against Nick Fury. "Agent Romanoff’s forceful personality has caused conflict in my household." He glared at Nick Fury. "Do you know how terrifying that is?"

"I heard you bought Agent Romanoff a pair of red-soled high heels?"

"You even know about that?"

"I know everything, Salomon. On Earth, at least." Director Fury wiped the sweat from his bald head. It was not summer yet, and the cold night wind could easily make someone catch a cold. "This is a mistake of your own making," he said. "I’m not helping you. Honestly, I have no experience dealing with this sort of conflict, so I can’t offer any advice."

"But I do." The Arcanist snorted. "I know a designer at the Russian Jewelry Theater. I had a pair of earrings custom-made there before. Stark introduced that designer to me."

"How much did you spend?"

"Nine thousand pounds. But now that I think about it, one pair of earrings won’t be enough. I need to pick out another piece of jewelry."

"Where did you get that much money? You didn’t sell the antiques I gave you, did you?" This was the first time Nick Fury had learned of Kamar-Taj’s secular influence. Before this, he had always thought organizations like Kamar-Taj, secluded monastic orders, were dirt poor.

"It’s my living allowance." Salomon shrugged. "I simply don’t usually spend much. I rarely buy luxury goods either. I still lick the lid after drinking yogurt. Besides, currency backed by oil means nothing to me. It can buy nothing but worthless objects and daily necessities—diamonds are nothing; they are merely consumables. Gold is what truly has value, as do magical items. But that does not prevent me from using those meaningless scraps of paper to gain a position at the top of secular society’s food chain, because under your rules, those scraps of paper represent status. I am merely following your rules."

Phoenix cried in agreement. It had always believed that its master ought to stand at the pinnacle of humanity.

"You’re spending too much time around Stark. I should have Captain Rogers teach you proper spending habits," Nick Fury said. "Now send me back to Washington. S.H.I.E.L.D. has already taken over the matters in Europe, including that monastery and Ghost Rider. Also, Stark is in serious trouble. He’s tried to contact you many times."

"That isn’t a magical incident. Stark can handle it himself; it has nothing to do with me." Salomon removed his gauntlet and put on his Sling Ring. "I need to focus on resolving my family conflict. Besides, I’m afraid I’ve missed many days of class. My physics tutor is completely unreasonable when he gets angry."

"Yes, many days. You not only missed your birthday, but also two months of lessons." Fury said this with obvious delight. "You only have three or four months left to review for your A-levels. You little bastard, work hard. Everyone in S.H.I.E.L.D. has a higher education than you."

"Except you, you street thug."

Wrote this while slacking off.

I’ll write the next chapter while eating, then post it around the time I get off work.